In Sickness and in Health
by FanofBellaandEdward
Summary: A sick Malfoy does not make an easy patient. Harry knows that all too well. Draco's pov; slash; MPreg; implied mature content; set a couple of years after the war


**Author's note: A dear friend of mine asked me whether I couldn't write a Drarry fic for her because she hasn't been feeling well lately - this is the result. Babyvfan, I'm not entirely sure this is what you had in mind when you made the request, but I hope I didn't screw it up too badly ^^;**

 **This is a rather random oneshot, so don't expect any deep thoughts or a complicated plot :P**

 **Warnings: Draco's pov; established slash; implied mature content (for full version, go to my profile for more information); MPreg; set a few years after the war; a fairly chill Harry (I feel like that should be a warning in my fics LOL)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

 **Dedicated to: babyvfan**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 **In Sickness and in Health**

Miserable.

Utterly and completely miserable, that was how he felt like right now. Scratch that, there were no words in any language to describe how he felt like now, no words which would sufficiently bring his state across.

"You're overreacting, Draco," Harry said and had the audacity to roll his eyes.

Where was all that Gryffindor compassion right now? The one time the git was allowed to act like a sentimental Gryffindor and he chose this moment to display his Slytherin side? What had he done to deserve such a cold reaction?

The dark haired man was subjected to a glare, though the intensity of it was severely lessened by how watery those grey eyes looked.

"No' ove'eacting," Draco mumbled offended; his nose feeling horribly stuffed and he sniffled, grimacing. His voice sounded muffled in his ears, as if something was obstructing his hearing.

"Yes, you are, it's just a cold," Harry said patiently as he sank down on the bed next to Draco's hip and brought his hand down to check the blond's temperature. "See, your fever is going down already."

"Don' see why the potion can' work faster," Draco grumbled, voice thick. His nose tickled and he quickly snatched his handkerchief from the spot next to him, covering his nose and mouth when he sneezed violently.

 _Eugh, disgusting._

"Even magic has its limits," Harry replied dryly and pointed his wand at the closet in the right corner of their bedroom. "Accio handkerchiefs."

A whole bunch of clean handkerchiefs shot out the closet and flew over towards the sick man, landing in a neat pile next to him in his reach.

"It shouldn't have," Draco muttered darkly, lowering himself back in the mountain of pillows he had insisted he needed to lay comfortably.

"You know, I thought your mother was kidding when she warned me, but she clearly wasn't exaggerating," Harry remarked unimpressed as he rose up from the bed and walked over to the small table where they kept the potions Draco needed to take.

Grey eyes regarded him suspiciously. "Wha' did mother tell you?" Draco demanded, rubbing his temples in a weak effort to soothe the slow pulsing of a growing headache.

His lover snorted as he picked up the first vial, read the label on it and put it back down. "Said you're a nightmare to deal with when you're sick."

"'m not a nightmare," the blond protested – and definitely didn't pout. Malfoys didn't pout. Ever.

Green eyes threw him an exasperated look. "Draco, you're worse than Teddy when he's feeling sick." He paused. "And Teddy is six years old," he pointed out silkily.

"Can't someone feel sick without being judged fo' it?" Draco retorted snippily, wriggling himself deeper underneath the blankets.

'Oh poor Draco, is the world against you?" Harry questioned amused, lifting up the third vial from the table and holding it into the weak, early October daylight.

"Sure feels like it," Draco snapped, crossing his arms. He had to uncross them a few seconds later when they felt heavy and uncomfortable on his stomach. Fuck, he hoped he wouldn't have to throw up; that would just be the icing on this goddamn fucking cake.

"You big baby." Harry clucked his tongue and approached him again, offering the vial.

Draco glowered at him, but snatched the vial out of his hand. "As my husband aren't you supposed to take care of me?" he asked annoyed and twisted off the cork, sitting up a bit so that he could drink the potion.

The potion felt thick and slimy on his tongue and he nearly gagged when he swallowed it. Another reason why being sick sucked: the vile taste of the potions that were supposed to cure him. He felt the need to stress the ' _supposed to_ ' because so far they were doing a lousy job of it!

A slim, dark eyebrow rose up in a challenge. "And what exactly do you think I've been doing this weekend, hm?" Harry questioned; his voice having gained that dangerous soft lilt to it that signified the other person was treading on thin ice.

Draco was an expert in ignoring that tone. "No' taking care of me like you should," he insisted stubbornly. "You're not acting empathetic – or sympathetic, both, whatever – enough."

The younger wizard smiled thinly, resting his weight on his right hip as he studied his sick lover with shining eyes. "Oh, I'm not sympathetic enough? What exactly would constitute being sympathetic or empathetic enough for his majesty?"

Harry really should dial down the sarcasm for now; unlike other days Draco wasn't in the mood to appreciate it. "No' holding back on kisses would be a good start," he replied mulishly.

Harry mock gasped – and Draco knew that sound was mocking, he wasn't _that_ ill, damn it – and brought his hand to his chest. "But if I kiss you now, I would become sick as well and we don't want that, now do we?"

Draco scowled at him.

"I mean, you're always the one saying I have to learn how to take care of myself, so." Harry shrugged and his grin was positively _evil_.

Damn him. Of course now was the moment that git would choose to listen to Draco. Of fucking course. He very much disliked that Slytherin move of his lover. Very much.

"You're awful," he croaked out after finishing his coughing fit.

"Would an awful person take care of his sick husband?" Harry hummed, handing over a glass of cold water.

"You're enjoying this," Draco accused him after sipping from the cool liquid and it soothed his sore throat. "If you really love me, you would - "

"Draco, if I didn't love you, I would have left your sick, whining arse and you would be forced to take care of yourself," Harry retorted flatly, gazing at him unamused. Draco looked at him outraged. "Now shut up, lay back down and rest, for Merlin's sake."

The blond man kept quiet as he shuffled deeper underneath the blankets and scowled at one of the pillows which had escaped his mountain and was now lying forlornly near his feet.

A sigh sounded above him and then the mattress dipped down once more and a hand squeezed his right knee.

"Tell you what: if you can take the rest of your medicine without whining about it and rest, then once you're feeling better, you can do what you want with me for one night, okay?" Harry suggested and there was an underlying current of amusement colouring his voice.

The offer made him feel too much like he was treated like an unruly, fussy child, but he had to admit reluctantly that the prospect of having free reign over Harry for one night was a very alluring one.

Too alluring to resist, actually.

Eugh, why had he ever thought that Harry's Slytherin side was a good thing? He was weak, so weak.

"Fine," he muttered and resisted the urge to cross his arms. Barely.

And Harry's chuckle didn't make him feel warm inside. No, it certainly did not.

* * *

Two days later Draco was finally done being sick. As he threw the empty vials viciously into the bin after vanquishing the left overs of the potions, he swore to himself that he would create a better Cold Stopper Draught; a potion that wouldn't take days before it finally flushed out all the germs. It would be a raging success, he just knew it.

But first – first he had something else to do. Or rather: someone else.

A smirk gracing pale pink lips, the grey eyed man slipped upstairs to gather all the necessary supplies for tonight.

Time to cash in the offer.

* * *

The muffled sound of the Floo activating downstairs caused Draco to raise his head and slowly he closed his book and placed it on his nightstand.

"Draco?" Harry called out curiously.

"Upstairs," Draco answered and rose up from the bed, stretching out his arms and feeling his back pop.

There was a pause in which the other wizard presumably removed his robes and his shoes. The staircase creaked slightly as Harry made his way upstairs and Draco made a mental note to renew the Muffle Charm on the steps. No need to disturb each other if they had worked late and the other one was already asleep.

"I saw the vials in the bin," Harry said, stepping into their bedroom. "Looks like you're feeling well again, huh?"

"Hm, took far too long for my liking," Draco retorted and approached his lover; the tips of his fingers tingling as he thought of everything they would be doing soon.

"You didn't go to your lab?" the younger man inquired curiously and tilted his head slightly back to accept a kiss.

If Draco savoured the soft touch, after days of not being allowed to kiss his husband, well, nobody had to know.

"No, not today," Draco murmured and lowered his hands on Harry's hips, using his grip to pull him flush against his own body. He nipped at Harry's lower lip, smirked when he caught the sharp intake of his breath. "I remember you offering me something a few days ago."

The dark haired man chuckled, which trailed off into a small sigh. "Of course you remember that," he said amused, pulling back slightly. His own hands rested on Draco's lower back. "Before we start, there's something I need to tell you."

"Is it a matter of life and death?" A blond eyebrow was raised.

"What? No, but - "

"Then it can wait," Draco decided and locked their mouths together before the other wizard could form some sort of protest. His tongue slid against closed lips, teasing and prodding at the seam until they parted, allowing him to slip inside. The tips of their tongues met, brushed against each other; their kiss deepening. Harry's hands brushed higher up on Draco's back, clutching the material of his shirt when teeth grazed his lower lip.

Two fingers slipped between warm skin and rough cloth and Draco tugged, taking a step back. He released Harry's mouth, the both of them already breathing heavier, and licked his lips. "Why don't we take this to our bed?" he suggested huskily and forest green eyes glowed as the younger man allowed himself to be led to their bed and be pushed on it.

Draco wasted no time in climbing on the mattress, practically stalking his lover when the latter shuffled backwards until he let himself fall back against the pillows. Long, slender legs widened automatically, creating a space for the blond to lie in between.

"Now what are you planning to do to me?" Harry asked; the left corner of his mouth tucked up in that way he had when he was excited about what they would be doing, but didn't really want to show it.

Draco smirked, lowering his body so that their hips pressed fully against each other. "What, don't want it to be a surprise?" he drawled, rolling his hips so that he nudged against the bulge steadily growing against his.

A soft hitch. "That usually means you have too many ideas," Harry pointed out and his eyes flared up with a bright spark when the blond pressed down harshly with his hips.

"We better get started then, hm?" Draco breathed out and covered Harry's mouth before the latter could offer a snarky response; his hands shifting from their place on the bed to Harry's sweater, pushing it up.

When the sweater was rucked up right underneath his armpits, Harry finally got the clue and pulled his head back, breaking their kiss so that he could pull off his sweater and drop it to the floor. Draco's shirt soon followed, drifting down to join the sweater, and there was a bit of wrestling involved to get each other's belt unbuckled and off. Their trousers, socks and finally their underwear followed swiftly and then they were completely naked, slipping and sliding against each other.

Harry fell back down on the bed, grasping at Draco's shoulders to pull him down. "Would have been easier if we had just used a spell," he muttered, biting down gently on Draco's chin.

"So impatient," Draco smirked and hummed quietly when he felt muscles and tendons and smooth, warm skin only occasionally marred by faint, silvery scars twitching and moving underneath his hands. Harry had filled out nicely during his Auror training; no longer was he a scrawny, too skinny boy. He would never be overly muscled, but the ruthless training he had undergone to become an Auror had gifted him with a nice layer of muscles, which Draco loved to trace and lick and caress.

Harry was particularly sensitive around his nipples and the blond loved to take advantage of that bit of knowledge to turn the Auror into a quivering mess.

"Fuck," Harry uttered; a low groan leaving his throat when Draco latched onto his nipple, sliding his tongue on and around it while his fingers pinched and rubbed over his other one; the both of them pebbling and reddening underneath his ministrations.

"That's the point, yeah," Draco grinned, lifting his head up and dove right back in for another deep kiss, slick and warm, as their tongues battled for dominance and their hands danced over each other's body, mapping out skin they knew quite well by now.

A shiver ran over his spine when devious fingers brushed teasingly across his lower stomach and Draco retaliated by gripping Harry's member firmly, stroking up and down.

"God, Draco," Harry moaned, eyes slipping close as he rolled and bucked his hips, driving himself deeper into Draco's hand.

Draco's lips worried at a spot underneath Harry's ear and the dark haired man bared his neck further, offering the older man more space. The knowledge that he was one of the very few for whom Harry wouldn't mind baring his neck thrilled him and he rewarded that trust with a flick of his thumb and another deep kiss which quickly crossed the line into borderline filthy and depraved.

Fuck, he didn't think he would ever have enough of kissing Harry. He retreated slightly, his hand still caressing Harry, and licked his lips, suspecting they were rather bruised by now. Harry's lips certainly looked rather red and swollen, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glittering darkly and Draco was quite pleased with himself for making his husband look so debauched. A look only _he_ would ever get to see.

"You ready?" he asked, voice rough and he sat up, acutely aware of his own need twitching. He forced himself to breathe out slowly, to calm down a bit, fearing that one touch would send him over the edge.

"I'm ready," Harry breathed out, blinking as if he was dazed and he raised his legs, bending his knees, while Draco twisted around and snatched the bottle of lube from his nightstand, eyeing the silk scarf he had placed there speculatively. After a few seconds and a rather impatient huff of the man underneath him, who rubbed his foot against Draco's leg to spur him on, Draco decided to leave the scarf there.

For now at least. They still had plenty of time to get back to that particular item.

The clear, thick liquid coated his fingers and he pressed their mouths against each other, caressing his lover's tongue and sucking on it lightly, while he slipped a first finger inside Harry, making sure to move slow for now. It didn't take long for Harry to relax around the intrusion and soon Draco was preparing him with a second, and then a third; Harry's moans and sighs of pleasure like music in his ears as he rubbed and caressed him, preparing him carefully but thoroughly. A shock went through Harry when Draco pushed his fingers deeper, prodding against a hidden spot and the blond man watched with hooded eyes how Harry squirmed and wriggled around, his muscles tensing and whimpers escaping his bruised lips; his pupils expanding until there was only a sliver of green left.

 _Merlin, what a sight_. He never would get tired of it!

A noise of protest was torn out of Harry's throat when Draco removed his fingers and Draco pressed several kisses around his mouth, on his cheeks and chin and his forehead as he coated himself liberally with lube, all of a sudden too impatient to tease Harry any longer.

Settling back between Harry's legs, the other man swung his legs up, wrapping them around Draco's hips as his arms slipped around Draco's shoulders. Feet pressed down on his arse – an unspoken command that it was time to get on with it.

A smirk tugging at his lips, one of Draco's hands slipped in wild, black hair, sliding through the smooth strands until his fingers wrapped around them, tugging at them so that Harry was forced to move his head back, exposing his neck and the dark reddish bruises that were slowly blooming across the expanse of his throat.

"What are you waiting for?" Harry snipped and then grunted in surprise, his eyes snapping shut, and his nails digging down in Draco's shoulders when the blond snapped his hips forwards without warning, driving himself completely inside his husband with one smooth thrust.

He waited a few seconds, allowing Harry to adjust to the sudden intrusion, before he withdrew nearly completely. "You were saying?" he taunted and laughed when Harry cursed at him; green eyes looking at him with a mixture of deviancy and lust.

The time for teasing was over, however, and Draco set about driving Harry wild, eager to pull out all sorts of noises from his partner. He kept changing the rhythm of his thrusts: now it was long and deep, then short and quick, before he would slow down and grind his hips against Harry's arse, feeling muscles contract around him, seemingly desperate to keep him inside.

"I – I need …" Harry groaned, his hands constantly shifting over Draco's shoulders and chest and arms, as if he couldn't decide where to keep them but knowing he needed to hold on as Draco set about fucking his brains out.

"What, what do you need, love?" Draco whispered in his ear, panting as he shifted, aware of Harry's member trapped between their bellies; the sheen of sweat coating their bodies making it easier to move. His own was throbbing and he knew it wouldn't be long anymore before his climax would sweep him away, but he would be damned if he didn't get to see Harry come first.

"F-fuck, I – I need to come," Harry whimpered, his fingers loosening their grasp around Draco's upper arm and drifting down.

Before he could touch himself, Draco smacked his hand out of the way and took over, roughly stroking up and down, matching his thrusts with the speed of his hand. He just needed a bit more … Just a bit to, right there, he found it, angled his hips a bit, putting more force behind his thrusts and then suddenly Harry was thrown over the edge, his back arching from the bed, as his mouth opened in a silent scream.

Transfixed Draco watched how a flush deepened on Harry's cheeks before it travelled down and some tears escaped, glistening like diamonds in the light. Harry's pupils were fully blown out when he opened his eyes and stared right at Draco as he slumped back down on the bed.

"Draco."

It was his name, whispered in that husky, rough tone while muscles squeezed down and lips brushed against his own that caused him to lose it and he snapped his hips forwards one last time, muffling his scream in Harry's shoulder when he was swept away by the pleasure, which coursed through his body like lava.

When he had enough presence of mind to pull back and drop down next to Harry, his legs felt like jelly as if he had been running a marathon.

"Damn, if this is how we do it after you've been sick, I won't ever complain about your whininess again," Harry croaked out, blinking rapidly as he brushed some sweaty strands from his forehead.

"Had to make up for lost time," Draco muttered, a tad exhausted. He reached out with his arm and used it to tug Harry closer to him, pressing a soft kiss against his temple.

Harry turned to lie on his side, wincing slightly when he threw his leg over Draco's thighs.

"I know you've got more plans for us tonight, but I need a moment before I can get it up again," he groaned and Draco chuckled, petting his shoulder.

A moment to rest sounded good.

"What did you need to tell me actually?" he questioned a bit sleepily, remembering Harry's comment before he had shut him up.

"Hm? Oh, just that I took the test today," Harry answered, his breath hot against Draco's collarbone.

"Test? What test …" Draco trailed off and every shred of exhaustion left him completely, his eyes snapping open in shock, as realisation dawned upon him.

There was only one test Harry could be referring to. One test he had been eager to hear the results of since they had started trying four months ago.

Instantly he turned around to face Harry, leaning on his arm, as he stared wide eyed at his husband of two years. "You took the test? What did the test – what's the result?" he asked urgently; his heart beating madly in his chest. His mouth felt inexplicably dry.

Green eyes softened and a hand cupped his cheek as a smile danced across reddened lips. "Positive. I'm pregnant, Draco. We're going to be parents."

"Fuck! We're going to be parents. I'm going to be a father!" Draco shot up, shock and happiness filling him until he thought he would burst. "You're serious? You're really pregnant?"

"I'm serious. We're going to have a baby." Harry's smile widened as his hand drifted down to rest on his stomach.

His stomach which was housing their unborn baby.

"Fuck, I love you so much!" Draco swore and they kissed each other deeply, the love he felt for the dark haired man poured into the kiss, as a pale hand came to rest on a tanned one.

They were going to be parents; they were going to have a baby. _He was going to be a father!_

He couldn't have imagined a better 'glad you're better' gift than this: his own family.

As he rolled on top of Harry, sharing kisses mixed with smiles and perhaps even joyful tears, he met shining green eyes and relished the notion that soon their love would be physically represented in the form of their own child, their own son or daughter.

Their own little family.

All he needed and wanted.

The rest of the evening they spent celebrating their upcoming fatherhood. Outside the stars shone brightly.

 **The End**

* * *

 **AN2: I'm not completely happy with the ending, but I had no idea how to wrap this up otherwise, so yeah ... *clears throat* I hope it wasn't that bad!**

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all in my other stories!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


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